


re-connect

by pineneedlepants



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alan Deaton Being an Asshole, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Stiles, Beta Derek Hale, Deputy Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Emissary Stiles Stilinski, Getting Together, Healing Derek Hale, M/M, Mentions of Coercion, Scott is a Bad Friend, Scott is a Failwolf, Snowed In, mentions of emotional manipulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-28 17:00:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13908369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pineneedlepants/pseuds/pineneedlepants
Summary: It takes Stiles six months to track Derek down into a wooden cabin in the middle of nowhere. He doesn't plan on bumping into Scott while he's trying to coax Derek into coming back to Beacon Hills with him, but his brother seems to have a knack in always appearing in the most convenient of times, when all the hard stuff has already been done.Stiles thinks that, after all these years of Scott being on the road with Chris Argent, saving just-turned kids from other hunters, Scott should have had matured a lot since they've last seen each other. After a painfully slow trek through a blizzard and stumbling into Derek's cozy little den, Stiles realizes that maybe he's been holding a little too much hope over his brother's growth.At least Derek is amendable to hearing Stiles' request. Even if Stiles does so while smothering Scott with a pillow to keep his scathing comments to himself.--





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovelies!
> 
> Thank you for reading this piece! It's a commissioned work, with the prompts 'snow cabin, emissary Stiles and reconnecting a relationship'. I threw in some Bad Friend Scott, which, unlike _once in a half moon_ , will end with Scott getting torn a new one. Hope it will make people happy !
> 
> Smooches!
> 
> Not beta read

  
  


Adjusting the bag on his shoulders with stiff, frozen fingers, Stiles pushes forward through the knee high snow. Each step is heavy, a forced effort that pulls grunts from his throat. He’s both sweating buckets and frozen numb, an annoying phenomenon he had no idea could even happen. The wind howls through the lonely trees, the blizzard almost blinding enough that he can’t see in front of him.

‘’I can’t _believe_ ,’’ he shouts to Scott that’s huffing and puffing behind him, ‘’That that _asshole_ would _deliberately_ move to the most isolated, hardest-to-reach places on earth. With _no phone_ , _no computer_ and _no fucking modern way to reach him at all_.’’

He doesn’t hear his friend’s reply, but that doesn’t bother him. He hasn’t been able to talk to Scott the whole trek up the snow capped mountain, the yowling of the snow storm too noisy, but he knows the werewolf is hot on his heels.

‘’And if it turns out that he doesn’t actually live here,’’ he pants to himself, trusting his magic to guide his step, ‘’I’m gonna kill Danny, and then I’m gonna find where Derek is _really_ crashing his miserable furry ass in, and then kill him too.’’

The only saving grace about the blizzard is that they haven’t crossed paths with a single big ass predator that would have loved to have a taste of Stilinski flesh, because no animal is crazy enough to wander out in an impossible weather like this.

God, his cheeks are freezing with the ice crystals pricking at his sensitive skin where they form. He stops to take a quick breath, turning his whole body to see how far along his friend is behind him. He’s surprised that Scott hasn’t shifted to his beta form, the wolf able to stand the cold much better that way. There isn’t much distance between them, but even Stiles can see that Scott has an easier time of things, since Stiles is literally paving the way for him. He growls in annoyance.

Suddenly, the electrical blue ball of light above him flickers, indicating that a supernatural being is somewhere near proximity. Or within walking distance anyway. Hope and dread both fill him up instantly, and he quickly turns back to the thick snow forest in front of him, ready to see what awaits them at the end of their trek.

It takes them an hour of silent ploughing through the thick snow before Stiles sees a twinkle of light between the trees. He’s beyond exhausted, barely able to stand up, let alone push himself another ¼ miles. The only thing that forces his muscles to move is the adrenaline that’s coursing through his system at the hope of finally getting somewhere safe.

He huffs and puffs, each inhale a stab of ice cold air which fills his lungs painfully. He moves slowly, crossing the line between the end of the forest and the start of the circled clearing. There’s a lit cabin in the middle, windows alight with warmth and smoke rising from a chimney before the traces of the trail of black soot disappear into the violently beating wind.

The door to the cabin opens, a blurry figure slowly walking to the front porch.

He hears the figure shout a faint, if a little incredulous, _‘’Stiles?’’_ and it almost makes him weep in relief.

‘’Oh my god,’’ he mumbles through clattering teeth. ‘’Oh my fucking god.’’

When Derek emerges close enough so Stiles can see him through the blinding snow, he sees that the man is only wearing a soft looking henley and sweatpants, completely unperturbed of the cold. The werewolf is clearly surprised at his sudden night-time visitors, but Stiles has a hard time feeling any sort of glee or smugness about it when it feels like his entire body is one giant frostbite.

‘’What the hell are you doing here?’’ Derek shouts, scowling, immediately grabbing Stiles into a bridal carry. As he does so, the flickering light above him disappears, his goal reached, so his magic shudders back into his core. The wolf’s eyes widen when he sees Scott clambering up the hill as well.

Stiles tries his best to answer the question, but his relief at getting somewhere warm has drained him from the initial energy to push forward, and his teeth are clattering together with such force that he cannot utter a single solitary word to save his life.

‘’Fuck,’’ Derek seethes. He spins around suddenly and stomps his feet forcefully against the path, kicking the snow and ice to the sides, tamping it, widening the space for easier access for Scott to follow.

The cabin, when they enter it, feels like a small sanctuary to Stiles. It’s warm and small and cozy, with assortments of plush rugs and couches. Everything else is made out of carved wood that looks almost like the Viking-themed furniture he’d made an essay of back in high school, the levels dark and thick with different types of species of tree. There are two different sources of warmth. There’s a fireplace on the other side of the cabin, in the middle what looks to be a living room of sorts. It’s crackling with hot fire, the glass painted red with heat. There’s a huge box of logs next to it, ready to be pushed in.

Then there’s a small kitchen attached to a room what Stiles assumes to be only a lowered pit of a bed, and in the cooking nook, he sees another antique stove to be in use, the fairly smaller firepit popping with each flame-consumed piece of wood turning to ashes.

Stiles finds himself lowered carefully on one of the plush carpets, unable to move a finger in protest. He’s laid down on his back, his backpack digging into the curve of his spine. He hopes nothing inside it gets crushed too badly. That would suck a lot.  

‘’Get your clothes off,’’ Derek demands, pushing Scott to sit down next to Stiles’ sprawled form. Stiles opens his mouth to incredulously ask, _How?_ Before he realizes the man is speaking to Scott. Not that he would have gotten a word out with the way all the muscles in his body tremble in order to keep him warm. Goddamn human response to freezing temperatures. The older werewolf goes to pull the door closed, and then locks it for good measure.

‘’What are you _doing_ ?’’ Derek duns Scott when he sees the werewolf just sitting there. ‘’I _said_ , get your fucking clothes off before you _freeze to death_.’’

Scott nods slowly, or so Stiles thinks, and the wolf points his arm forward to slip the sleeve of his jacket and shirts off. Right now his view is limited to the ceiling. Then he sees in his peripheral vision as Derek comes to him, and mutters, ‘’I’m gonna take your clothes off now, okay, Stiles?’’ and starts tugging his boots off without hearing a reply, revealing the soaked socks underneath. Derek’s frown intensifies, but he continues to gently pry each wet garment off Stiles’ body, taking care to not jostle his limbs too much as the warmth of the cabin sets all of him to pins and needles. And fuck, does it _hurt_.

‘’Why the fuck are you climbing up a mountain in the worst snow storm that has hit the forest in decades? And in _normal_ winter gear? Do you _have_ a death wish?’’ Derek grits, throwing the wet clothes into a haphazard pile. ‘’What kind of idiots just completely ignore every single warning sign that’s been buzzed about for over a week now? Jesus.’’

Stiles lays there on the carpet, in his wet boxers, shivering in cold, unable to answer. Scott mumbles something, but Derek just purses his lips and shakes his head.

‘’Go put all of your soiled clothes into the mudroom. There’s a bin that’s half full clothes. Put them there. It’s through the right door from the kitchen. I’ll get some dry clothes and blankets for the both of you and then you can explain everything.’’ He looks down to Stiles and lifts an angry eyebrow. ‘’And I mean _everything_.’’

Stiles nods, as much as he’s able, and Derek pulls down a thick quilt from a nearby couch, manipulating Stiles’ limp torso to his bidding, wrapping him in it entirely. He tucks another, lighter quilt around his feet and legs, and plops him in front of the fireplace, far enough to not burn him but close enough to let him soak up the warmth.

When Scott comes back, his limbs seem just as stiff as Stiles’, but he’s clearly doing better as his enhanced healing allows his blood to start flowing more rapidly, and then Derek wraps him in a thick quilt as well, forcing him to sit down next to Stiles.

Derek goes into the kitchen, banging the cabinets and pots angrily as he works, and Stiles wilts just a little. He knows Derek isn’t mad about him, and in extension, Scott, for dropping unannounced. More likely than not, he’s just furious with himself for staying at a cabin that’s hard to reach for humans, and in doing so, has put Stiles and Scott into a position that forced them to endanger their lives just to see Derek. Because Derek is exceptional at internalizing guilt that isn’t his to shoulder.

Fifteen minutes of agonizing silence, the only sounds being teeth clattering together and something boiling in a pot, Derek comes back and hands both half-naked men cups of hot chocolate. Even Stiles has his muscles functioning a little bit better under his command, the ice that worked deep into his bones finally melting, and he accepts the huge mug with trembling hands.

‘’Thank you,’’ he murmurs, or at least tries to. Scott takes one offering as well, his hands a lot steadier.

‘’I put the water boiler on, so we can heat up baths for both of you,’’ Derek says, sitting down on the floor with them, putting himself just in the line of Stiles’ sight. ‘’I don’t have electricity at the moment, so I can’t get you guys much light in there, but it should warm you up enough so you won’t actually get a frostbite.’’

‘’Th-thoughtf-ful of yo-you,’’ Stiles says, grasping at his mug with the strength of a newborn calf. Derek seems to notice this, and gets up with a sigh, returning with a thick blanket from his bed. He wraps it around Stiles’ still trembling frame, tucking it neatly underneath him, so it won’t fall off with his wiggling.

As Stiles wriggles his toes to get the blood back in them, he watches as Derek pushes a couple more logs into the fireplace, the wolf unflinching at the crackling and flying pieces of hot wood.

‘’So, either of you want to fill me in?’’

Stiles sighs.

‘’Well,’’ Scott says, his head cocked, ‘’I was doing a job in the village downtown, you know, hiding werewolves from hunters. I don’t know if you knew that. That I, uh, do that for a living. I’ve been staying in the area for awhile now, chasing after a rogue Alpha that’s been turning and killing people within the past month. Me and Chris, we’ve been doing this for years now. Chasing down hunters to save turned teenagers the way I was turned by your uncle. ’’

Stiles sees Derek nod in agreement. He had filled Derek in a long time ago about it. Stiles still cannot believe that Scott refuses to kill any of the hunters that have taken innocent lives by the dozen, murdering people just because they’ve been turned and have no idea how to control themselves yet. And that his brother is _proud_ of that achievement, of not spilling any hunter blood on his hands, even if Stiles thinks it might be warranted. Like when he’d refused to kill Deucalion, even as Erica’s and Boyd’s deaths rested on the shoulders of the blind alpha. Sometimes he feels that Scott lives in an entire different reality than he and Derek do, seeing everything in strict blacks and whites, thinking everyone deserves a chance after chance, despite the numerous unforgivable sins they’ve committed.

‘’And Chris isn’t actually with me right now, he’s doing a gig in Denmark for an old friend, so I’ve been keeping a low profile since I’ve been alone. I didn’t even know you lived near here before I bumped into Stiles at the local supermarket by accident. He told me his plans about getting through the forest to a cabin where you lived, and I tagged along to make sure he didn’t end up dying of hypothermia.’’

‘’I-I’m a be-be-better navig-gator th-than you,’’ Stiles grumbles. ‘’I wo-would have f-f-found myself here j-just as f-f-fast as we did, ev-ven without y-y-you. _And_! I did m-m-most of t-t-the work, pa-paving the road th-th-through the snow.’’

Derek rolls his eyes. ‘’Drink your damn hot chocolate,’’ he says, which prompts Stiles to take a sip to soothe his frozen tongue. ‘’I have no idea how you found me, or how you even got up here in the first place. Don’t tell me you hiked up the mountain all the way from the last town you saw?’’

Stiles shakes his head at Derek’s pained expression. ‘’G-got a r-r--rental car. It died in th-the last slope wh-when th-th-the snow g-g-got too th-thick.’’

Derek rubs his chin thoughtfully. ‘’Well, I have a snowmobile in the garage, so once things have calmed down tomorrow, we’ll go see if it survived the storm. Might need a spare battery for it though. Freezing temperatures tend to drain cars from electricity. Especially the newer models.’’

‘’Thanks,’’ Stiles says in gratitude. ‘’I pinned th-the car on my g-g-google maps. Y-you don’t ha-ha-happen to h-ha-ve an outlet in here f-for me to p-plug in my iphone?’’

Derek shakes his head. ‘’I do have the sockets for it, but the power’s down. I think the storm might have knocked down some of the utility poles. It’ll take a couple weeks before I get the powers back, since I live so deep in the forest. And even if they get everything back up faster, the weight of the snow on the nearby trees usually take the wires down again after a while.’’

Scott looks at Derek with wide eyes. ‘’So you mean I can’t make any phone calls from here?’’

‘’I do have some full portable batteries if you need to recharge your phone. Though you might not get reception, even if you have power.’’

‘’Aw, crap,’’ Stiles says. ‘’So I can’t check in with my dad either.’’

Derek shrugs. ‘’You can try calling from the porch in the morning if the blizzard has receded. Sometimes it works, sometimes  not.’’

Both Scott and Stiles look a little defeated at that, so Derek sighs, changing the subject. ‘’I’ll go check on the water boiler and get you guys some towels. Who wants to go first?’’

Stiles shoots his hand up with lot more speed than he thought possible. Derek just nods, leaving without another word.

They sit silently together for a moment before Scott turns to him, his expression confused. ‘’You never did tell me why you wanted to come up here to see Derek. I thought you guys hadn’t been in touch since we last saw each other in our senior year?’’

Stiles shrugs. ‘’We exch-ch-changed occasional t-t-texts for years, be-before he went MIA tw-tw-twelve or so m-months ago.’’

Scott nods slowly. ‘’I had no idea. I mean, I understand wanting to be in contact with someone like Malia, or even Lydia since she’s so good at research, but, um, _Derek_? I thought you hated him?’’

Giving Scott a look, Stiles purses his lips in annoyance. His cheeks flush a little in indigation, though he thinks they might be ruby red to begin with, so it doesn’t change things much. His speech comes a little more clear though, since he’s got to set Scott right, and by extension, Derek, since he knows the werewolf must be eavesdropping. ‘’I haven’t hated Derek, n-n-not even from d-da-day one when he intimidated us on his property. Was I a-a-afraid of him th-the first week? Yes. Did I try to avoid him be-before the Kanima incident? Yes. Did I ever hate him? _No_.’’ He shuffles a little backwards so he can lean on the couch, finding a better position. ‘’Me and Derek, man, we sa-sa-saved each other’s lives a million times in th-the pa-pa-past. That summer when E-Erica and Boyd we-went missing and you wavered around between Isaac and A-Allison, me and Derek spent numerous weeks just researching together. I value our friendship, and I di-di-didn’t want to lose it for mere distance between us.’’

‘’Huh,’’ Scott says. ‘’I didn’t know that.’’

Stiles snorts. ‘’I’m su-su-surprised you didn’t smell it. Even P-Peter commented how the loft started to stink of Eau de Stilinski.’’

Wrinkling his nose, Scott huffs. ‘’Peter was so creepy.’’

‘’Tell me about it,’’ Stiles huffs. '’Anyway, since Derek di-disappeared from the face of earth, I decided to track him do-do-down, to see if he’s alright and how he’s doing.’’ He doesn’t tell his brother that that’s only half the truth. He’s got to discuss everything with Derek first, before he can even entertain of revealing his grand plans to a blabbermouth like Scott.

Scott opens his mouth to continue, but clacks it shut right away. Stiles looks up to see Derek entering, his expression just a little bit softer than it was just a moment ago. He offers the man a small, crooked smile. ‘’My bath ready?’’

Nodding, Derek comes to stand in front of him, hand extended. Stiles grabs it, letting the older man pull him up like he weighs nothing, his legs shaky but balanced.

‘’C’mon,’’ Derek says, keeping him upright. ‘’I’ll show you the washing room.’’

Stiles drops all the quilts and the blanket on the couch, gently placing the empty mug to the coffee table residing nearby, and follows the older wolf only clad in his damp boxers.

The washing room is a little different. There’s a huge bathtub at one corner, but no shower. Attached to the room is a glass door, and when he peeks inside, he sees yet another firepit, though this one has rocks on top of it, and the room is very small. The walls are wooden, and there are equally as wooden benches placed in four different levels, the highest so close to the ceiling that a tall enough person would have to sit there with their back hunched. He blinks in confusion.

Derek points to the huge tank in the corner. ‘’That’s where the hot water is. You can scoop it up with this ladle if your bathwater is too cold for your liking, but don’t burn yourself on the iron lid. It’s over two hundred degrees.’’

‘’There’s no shower?’’ Stiles asks, curling his toes against the cold tile floor. Derek shakes his head.

‘’When you want to wash your hair, use one of the basins over there and mix the cold and hot water again for your liking and then just pour it over your head. There’s soap, and that’s shampoo. You can throw your boxers into the dirty bin with the other clothes, I’ll wash them after both of you are done. Towels are in the rack over there, and I’ll bring you a change of clothes for you to sleep in.’’

Stiles nods. He quirks a brow into the direction of the odd little room behind the glass door. Derek follows his gaze and looks a little surprised.

‘’That’s a sauna. I didn’t heat it up since I didn’t think either of you knew how to use one without killing yourselves.’’

‘’A sauna?’’ Stiles asks, curious. ‘’I didn’t think it looked like that. I mean, I’d heard of the basic idea of a one, but it doesn’t seem to match anything I had in mind.’’

‘’Go have your bath before you freeze, Stiles,’’ Derek says patiently, walking towards the door. ‘’You can drain the bath once you’re done and we’ll make a new one for Scott. There’s spaghetti once you’re ready to come out.’’

‘’Oh man, you’re a fucking life saver, dude,’’ Stiles says with heartfelt gratitude. ‘’I’ll see you in half an hour.’’

‘’Take your time,’’ Derek says and departs, leaving Stiles alone with five lanterns that barely lit up the room enough for him to see. It adds a layer of serenity though, a little safe place within the howling blizzard raging outside. He shucks his boxers off, walks over to the bath and tests the water, finding it just an inch to the too hot side, but he realizes that he can still sit down into the water easily, his frozen body welcoming the heat now that he’s not at the brink of turning into a meat icicle.

With a contented sigh, he lets his worries be swept away and closes his eyes.

  
  


\---

  
  
  


Derek settles a bowl of spaghetti bolognese in front of Stiles, guiding a fork and a glass of water beside it, and sits opposite of him. His phone is resting on the table next to his arm, charging from one of the portable power sources the older man had dug out from somewhere when nobody was looking.

Stiles tucks in with gusto, his limbs loose and warm, his cheeks red. He’s lax and contented, something he hasn’t had in what seems like forever. It feels good to sit there with Derek’s unassuming company, the silence an odd comfort that he’s missed since his high school days, and the summer they spent together.

He hates that he has to break the serene atmosphere, but he _does_ need some answers, and now that Scott’s momentarily out of the picture, he strikes at the chance.

‘’So, uh,’’ he starts hesitantly, ‘’Lovely little cabin you got here. I like it. Very cozy and out of reach from unwanted social interactions. Fits your misanthropist ideals.’’

Derek lifts his gaze from the book he’s reading, his facial expression dark in the barely lit kitchen. ‘’Thank you,’’ the man offers warily.

Stiles nods. ‘’How long have you stayed here?’’

Rubbing the side of the book, Derek’s gaze drops to it and he answers, ‘’Some, eleven or so months.’’

‘’So, about the time you stopped answering all my calls and texts?’’

Derek looks up at him guiltily. ‘’Yes.’’

Stiles hesitates. ‘’Were you. . . I don’t know, hunted or something? I’m not, um, mad at you for disappearing or anything. If you needed space for yourself, that’s cool. I wish you’d have, dunno, just told me or something. I would’ve limited my contact with you or --’’

‘’No, that’s not --’’ Derek sighs. ‘’I didn’t mind talking to you. That’s not it. I was -- I got into a very bad place in Iowa. Some local guy recognized my face from somewhere, and the next thing I know, I’ve got an entire family of werewolf specialized hunters on my tail. I had to go down under for a while, to recuperate. Hide and heal. They had cloned my phone in a diner I visited, I think, and I needed to delete all my contacts with anyone I knew, lest they come after you. It’s why you couldn’t get your calls through with me after that, since I canceled my subscription and destroyed my phone.’’

Stiles frowns. ‘’But if they cloned your phone, that means that they already had our text history. It wouldn’t have worked if you suddenly just deleted everything in your device.’’

Shaking his head, Derek picks at the book. ‘’Everything I received from you, or sent to you, or anyone I knew, I deleted right after I had read and answered. I only kept snippets of our conversations in my email, which I never logged into from my phone. I couldn’t put any of you in that kind of danger, after everything we’ve been through. You, none of you deserve to be hunted for just being in contact with me.’’

Stiles gapes at the wolf. ‘’Oh my god,’’ he groans, hiding his face in his hands. ‘’ _Of course_ you would do something like that,’’ he mutters. ‘’ I don’t even know what to say to that. Obviously a _thank you_ would be a good place to start, but jesus, dude, why didn’t you just come back to Beacon Hills, get safety from the pack, or my dad? Or come to me to New York, you _know_ nobody in the big apple would be able to get a hold of you. I could’ve easily even warded my apartment, as well as yours, to keep you safe.’’

There’s a moment of silence, and then Stiles peeks up from the slouch of his arms. Derek looks like he’s hunching in on himself without meaning to, his face pinched.

‘’I did think of getting to you,’’ the wolf starts. ‘’It was the first thing that crossed my mind. But then if something _had_ happened to you, because I was being chased. . . ‘’ He sighs. ‘’I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t put any of you into such obvious danger like that, forcing a target on your backs.’’

A little frustrated, Stiles leans back in his chair. ‘’But that’s what you always preached about, dude. That pack supports each other, has each other’s backs in good times and bad. You would have been granted unconditional safety and protection, much like you protected us when we needed it. Fuck, you still keep protecting us, pulling stunts like these. Why don’t you take a note from your own book and let the pack take care of _you_ for once?’’

Derek frowns in confusion. ‘’I’m not part of the Beacon Hills pack. Or any pack for that matter. You know that.’’

‘’Yes, I _do_ know that, but everyone would’ve counted you as pack by proxy. We’ve shared blood and guts and a bed and _food_ , dude. I don’t even know why you left in the first place. Things had been so quiet and peaceful for the month you stayed after the last showdown. My dad was getting all giddy and happy at the thought of recruiting you into the force, getting an inside man onto all the supernatural shenanigans. Why pack your things and go?’’

‘’I -- What? Why would your dad --’’ The wolf huffs. ‘’Of course I left. I wasn’t given a choice to do otherwise.’’

Now it’s Stiles’ turn to frown. ‘’What? Who didn’t give you the choice to stay?’’

Derek lays his hands on the table, fingers visible, as if he’s readying himself to count them, like he’s thinking that he’s having some bizarre, elaborate dream. He recounts slowly, ‘’When I went to visit Deaton about the journals that my mother had entrusted him with, wanting to re-acquaint myself with the knowledge in them, Deaton made it very clear that after he had given me the books, I should take them, and leave Beacon Hills. Since the Hale land didn’t have a Hale alpha, but only a measly omega, the balance between the natural magic and the Nemeton would be disrupted, since Scott was the only alpha in the area. And since I wasn’t in the true alpha’s pack, my living in the town would have eventually shaken the carefully crafted order of powers and created a new beacon for evil supernatural, much like the Nemeton had when it was corrupted. Deaton had appointed himself namely as the Emissary of the McCall pack, and in doing so, he had the authority to ask me to move along, like every other omega that crosses the town.’’

 _‘’What_ ? Why the fuck would he -- Deaton is such a _shady ass motherfucker_ . And where the hell was I in all this? No, scratch that, where was _Scott_ in all this? What the fuck did he have to say about that?’’

‘’Uh,’’ Derek flounders a little, quickly checking that Scott isn’t anywhere near them and says, ‘’When I went to ask him about it, he just said that he got everything under control and didn’t need me for anything at that moment, that there was no need for me to stay. He promised he would take care of the land and the pack which I had failed to do. Like in the legend, ‘ _A true alpha will rise to power by sheer force of will, gathering together the splintered pack of the defeated leader’_.’’ He pauses. ‘’Or something like that. I don’t really remember properly. It was a long time ago anyway.’’

‘’I -- I don’t understand. Like, I’m not gonna even touch the Scott thing, I have no idea what he thinks half of the time anymore. The whole shitshow of our high school years really changed him fundamentally, though not necessarily to the better. But, Dr. Deaton. Jesus. Why would Deaton -- I mean, wasn’t he supposed to be _your_ ally? I know that he was your mom’s emissary, and should’ve been yours when you were an alpha, but _even if_ he favored Scott over you, frankly, shitting all over you in the process, he still shouldn’t have chased the last Hale out of Beacon Hills. The land, man, it’s _yours_ . It’s been tied to you by generations of Hale blood having spilled into its soil. It _calls to_ you. Deaton, as a druid, should have been more than aware of this. In fact, he should’ve _felt_ it with every fibre of his being.’’

Derek looks down. ‘’I don’t know,’’ he says quietly. ‘’I haven’t felt the pull towards the land since I last forced my wolf to tear itself free of it. There’s just this. . . This void in my chest where the feel of the territory used to be. Where the pack bonds used to be. I don’t think I’d even fit into the role of a protector, or even live in a town that has a pack I’m not a part of.’’

Stiles kicks him under the table. ‘’Of course you’re more than qualified to move back and start rekindling your connection to your ancestors. It’s your _bloodright_ , your _birthright_ as the only living Hale. I think -- ‘’

He doesn’t finish the sentence as a loud thump of a door colliding with a wall echoes through the small cabin and Scott emerges from the washroom, his torso dripping water all over the hardwood floor.

“Hey,” Scott says cheerfully, entering the kitchen. “What did I miss?”

The young wolf turns to the sink to have a drink of water, entirely ignorant of the tension in the room. Stiles shares a pointed look with Derek, his patented ‘ _This conversation isn’t over yet’_ glare hopefully coming across clear as day. With the way Derek deflates, he thinks he got the message across.

“Nothing much,” Stiles answers to Scott’s question a beat later. “Just catching up with things.” Which is entirely true.

Scott nods, downing a glass of water. “I get that. It’s been a long time since all three of us saw each other. I don’t think we’ve been in the same room since our senior year of high school.”

“Possible,” Stiles nods, and yawns exaggeratedly. “Now, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m exhausted. Is there like, a spare mattress we could crash in?”

Derek stands up, pushing his chair neatly under the table. “Both of you can share my bed. I changed the sheets in it, so if you don’t mind sleeping together, you can crash that.”

“Where’re you gonna sleep?”

The wolf nods towards the biggest couch. “Over there. I need to keep the fire going for as long as possible, so I’ll be moving around a lot for the next couple of hours still. You guys can sleep.”

Stiles blinks. ‘’Oh. Okay. If you’re cool with letting us have your bed, I’m not gonna argue. But the couches look comfy enough to snuggle into, if you change your mind.’’

Shaking his head, Derek clears the table, leaving the dirty dishes in a basin filled with water and blows out the lanterns. ‘’I’m not. You guys can go ahead and go get some sleep.’’

Rubbing his eyes, Stiles nods. ‘’Yeah, okay. Scotty boy, I’ll take the side closer to the fireplace. You can cram yourself against the wall, ‘kay?’’

‘’Like old times,’’ Scott grins. ‘’Though the bed used to be a twin, instead of this pit of blankets and pillows. What is this, a california king?’’

‘’Yeah,’’ Derek confirms.

‘’Cool, dude. I don’t think sleep will be a problem in a bed like this.’’

‘’I’d assume not,’’ Derek says, sounding a little bemused. ‘’Especially if you’re used to hotels and motels.’’

‘’Yeah, man, this is a real treat of luxury. Thanks for having us, by the way. I don’t think Stiles gave you any warnings ahead of time,’’ Scott says, following Stiles’ trail to the bed.

‘’A little hard to give any heads up when I’ve got nothing he could’ve contacted me with. It’s fine, Scott.’’

Scott nods, face sympathetic. ‘’Well, good night.’’

‘’Stop dragging your feet, Scott. Get into the bed so I can finally catch some z’s. Chop chop.’’

‘’Jeez, I’m coming,’’ Scott grumbles, shooting the human a wilted puppy-dog look. It makes Stiles roll his eyes.

Derek leaves the two to their quiet bickering and goes to tend the fire. With the way the wind howls and the cabin creaks, he thinks he might stay awake just a little bit longer than usual, so that the warmth won’t disappear entirely once morning descends. Stiles’ human body might not be able to withstand the freezing chill that creeps in more rapidly during strong storms like this.

He pokes and prods at the burning logs, listening to the quiet murmurs of the men in the corner, and revels in the warmth that soothes his torso where he stands close enough to the heated tile. It doesn’t take long before the furious whispering lulls and stops, both men’s heartbeats slowing down to the easy rhythm of slumber.

Derek lets his ears rest in the sound, and vows to keep them safe throughout the night. He has no idea what will happen come morning light, but he trusts Stiles to have a reason for being here, for endangering his life recklessly by climbing the mountain in a huge blizzard like this.

It’s going to be lonely again when they leave, but it is no less than he deserves, he thinks, because by choosing to stay here in complete isolation and solitude, he isn’t bringing danger to anyone’s doorstep but his own.

He’ll be fine.

  
  
  


 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for reading!
> 
> If you're a Scott fan, this fic is not for you. I'm sorry.
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed this piece, and I'll see you again next time !

  
  
  
  


By the time 5 AM rolls around, all signs of the storm have receded. It’s still dark outside when Derek startles awake, but there is a thin lining of bleak sun painting the horizon. 

He stares at it for awhile, unable to tear his eyes away or move, comfortable where he lays under the thick blanket. He can already tell it’s going to be a clear, cold day.

With a sigh, he heaves himself up, allowing himself a long, wide yawn as he stretches. With a tired scratch to his stomach, he drops down in a crouch in front of the now cold fireplace and starts rekindling the fire, wanting to heat the cabin back up. He dumps the ashes from the tray underneath into a sealed box and snatches a couple old magazines he’s started hoarding from the village closest to him. 

When the fire has started to crackle gleefully, consuming the wood with placidness of the first few ten minutes while it heats the heart of it up, he goes to the kitchen and works a flame under the stove as well. He’s feeling like having scrambled eggs and bacon, and he knows neither of his guests will have an argument to that.

Stiles snorts himself awake twenty minutes later, and rejoins Derek in the kitchen. His sleep mussed hair and tired expression have Derek pushing a mug of instant coffee into his hands, which the human takes, though the act of holding a cup seems a little tricky for his offline brain.

‘’Morning,’’ Derek greets him quietly. He doesn’t expect a response and doesn’t get one. He remembers that it takes Stiles a long while to wake up enough to find basic things like words, and by then he’s usually already at his second cup of coffee. For now, the human blinks dumbly ahead, sipping his drink.

At his second helping of breakfast, Derek sees Stiles put his mug down on the table and then reach with his fingers into Derek’s plate. Unamused, he lets the human have one piece of bacon before he pulls his food away from the greedy hands and says, ‘’There’s a whole batch of these on the stove. Go get your own.’’

Stiles whines, dragging and spreading his arms on the table, resting his head against the wood. ‘’ ‘s too far,’’ he mumbles.

Sighing, Derek gets up and fills another plate, offering it to Stiles. The human takes it, making a happy little huff, grabbing Derek’s free hand and offering it a couple pats in gratitude.

Snorting, Derek sits back down. Stiles lets his hand go easily, so he can finish his breakfast in peace. The human too, digs in, chewing slowly.

It’s another fifteen minutes before Stiles sighs, belly full, his scent content. ‘’Morning,’’ he says.

‘’Morning,’’ Derek greets him again, entirely too amused about the man’s ability to block everything from his mind when he hasn’t woken up properly.

‘’Thanks for breakfast,’’ Stiles rasps, scratching his arm. ‘’You didn’t have to.’’

‘’It’s fine. I’ve got food.’’

‘’Yeah,’’ Stiles yawns. ‘’It’s probably easy to hunt in a place like this where there are no rules about it, or anyone to catch you doing it.’’

‘’The only thing I hunt when I’m hungry is my credit card, and then I drive down to the village and go grocery shopping.’’

Stiles pouts, slumping in exhaustion. ‘’Boring.’’

Shrugging, Derek sips at his tea. ‘’Maybe. But I don’t have a need to hunt for my own food. Besides, this is Melrond’s pack land, which I’m allowed to stay in, so even if I wanted to hunt without a permit, I’d still have to ask permission from the Melrond Alpha.’’

‘’I -- huh. So that’s what the magical residue was. I thought -- Never mind. You said Melrond pack?’’

Derek nods in confirmation.

‘’I think I’ve heard about them. The alpha, a big, ugly white dude? The entire pack super conservative with very old views about power structure and submission to the leader?’’

‘’That’s the pack, yeah.’’

Playing with his mug, Stiles rubs his eye. ‘’I’m surprised you’ve managed to stay here for almost a year without them recruiting you.’’

‘’They tried,’’ Derek says. ‘’I’ve always politely declined. They usually come up once a month, trying to persuade me to join them. They know about my family, since not a lot of Hale werewolves are living around the states, so they’ve tried matching me with some of their betas.’’

‘’Yuck,’’ Stiles makes a face. ‘’Sounds like a delightful way to coax you into joining them. ‘We have women! They have wombs! They make kids! Join us!’ Blergh.’’

Derek snorts despite himself. ‘’Yeah. It’s a little tough. Nothing I can’t handle though.’’

Stiles stays quiet for a moment, his scent turning slightly nervous. He looks up at Derek with soft, worried eyes. ‘’You shouldn’t have to put up with any of that in the first place,’’ he says quietly. ‘’So why not come back to Beacon Hills, huh? At least there you wouldn’t be harrassed by anyone, no beastly alphas vying for your attention to recruit you into their lines. You could. . . Get a pack. Peace.  _ Home _ .’’

Sighing, Derek’s gaze drops down. ‘’I don’t know Stiles. I’ve been an omega for so long, I . . . I don’t think I could stay under a stranger’s command. Or even Scott’s. It would be difficult for me to connect and infiltrate into a pack I don’t know, with people I’ve never met. Especially if the others have been together for a long time and I’d be the only outsider in a tightly knit group. I’d bail and run out of town before a month would pass.’’

Stiles gets more comfortable in the sturdy kitchen chair. ‘’Yeah, I know. I know  _ you _ . But that’s the thing, big guy. There  _ is  _ no pack in Beacon Hills at the moment. Nobody to protect the land. Since Scott started his nomadic life with Chris, Deaton closed his practice and moved out of town. The other wolves, you know, Liam and Kira and Mason and the others, they’ve moved on, joined other packs, scattered around. Went to college, travelling the world.’’

Derek looks startled, his head snapping up in confusion. ‘’The land in the preserve is left unprotected?’’

‘’Yeah. I’m sorry,’’ Stiles apologizes, sounding contrite. ‘’Reckless, right? But, you know. That’s uh. Kinda the reason I’m here to begin with. I’m officially starting my new job as a deputy in Beacon Hills’ police department in four weeks, now that I’ve finally graduated and I’m able to move out of New York. And, you know, it would, uh, it would be an honor, really, if, um, you could come back? With me. To Beacon Hills.’’

Derek blinks at him dumbly. It makes Stiles flush a little.

‘’I want the town and the people I love there safe,’’ he says confidently. ‘’There are still so many things crawling in the night that we can’t identify nor capture, and the public shouldn’t be exposed to that in any way. And there is nobody I trust implicitly to do that, to use every ounce of available resources to identify and eliminate the threat, but  _ you _ . You alone. With the help of me and Parrish of course.’’ He pauses for a moment, biting his lip. ‘’I’ve been to the Nemeton recently. I’ve felt the magic, the ley lines, calling for help. Your ancestors wish for the Hales to return, and to protect your territory is in your blood. I’ve been training for  _ years  _ to become a strong emissary, stronger than  _ any  _ of my predecessors, or even my teachers, just so I could go back and do what my spark is guiding me to do. To settle the confusion and desolation of the abandoned magic in the preserve, to create a stable and protected home for myself and my dad, and the town’s people. So if there was even the tiniest, most miniscule chance that you’d be willing to even  _ entertain  _ the idea of returning, then you have to know that I’m with you one hundred percent.’’

Looking a little shell shocked, Derek swallows, trying to find his footing in the conversation, unsure when he lost it.  ‘’I -- You -- I -- You what? You trained your spark just to, to, to be an emissary? For  _ me _ ?’’

‘’Yeah,’’ Stiles agrees fiercely. ‘’I know that, that this might sound crazy. Insane even. But. I trust my instincts. We’ve been keeping contact despite the long distance, we’ve shared this enormous, horrible past that is sometimes, quite frankly, very difficult to even comprehend, and I just. I need you to know that I’ve always trusted you with my life. With my  _ father’s  _ life. And there’s  _ nobody  _ in the whole wide world that I’ve been able to say the same to. And, ugh, this must sound like I’m trying to recruit you to be our werewolf shield in times of danger, but that is so far from the point it’s not even funny. I don’t know how to explain myself any better than this. I want this. I want to form a pack with you, to live in Beacon Hills. I want to have that connection, that unquestionable security and support, and I want to protect it with every fibre of my being.’’

‘’I don’t even know what to -- Holy shit, Stiles. You - You just don’t do things by halves, do you?’’

Stiles gives a lopsided, unrepentant grin. ‘’When I know what I want, I put my mind into it and go get it.’’

‘’Yeah,’’ Derek says, a bit rueful. ‘’I’ve noticed that.’’ He sighs. ‘’Can I. . Can I think about it?’’

‘’Yeah, man. Of course,’’ Stiles says easily. ‘’I’m not trying to manipulate you or force you into doing it. I’m just saying, the option is out there. If you were thinking of alternative life choices than residing here for the rest of your life.’’

Tapping at his tea mug, Derek mulls it over for a minute. It isn’t a decision he can do lightly. To be honest, he’s been thinking of returning to his home territory for a long time, but the idea of sharing space with Scott and his pack hadn’t appealed in the slightest, their past and current differences a major issue in his mind. It’s why he chose to leave without a backwards glance when he was prompted to. But  _ if  _ he could go back. If he could go back without complications, without feeling like his space has been carved out and replaced with someone else. . . He would. Go home.

God.  _ Home _ . 

He’d be able to visit his family’s grave again. See if the paths surroundings his old childhood home have been taken over by nature, travel the familiar woods without the threat of a hunter targeting him, or a strange pack trying to force him to join them in order to be able to walk on the territory freely. . . He’d be his own person again, with real, solid human possessions like an apartment, and a car, and a job and friends and  _ Stiles _ . An Emissary. A sheriff he can trust, an inside man with law enforcement that isn’t colluding with hunters, ready to offer his head in a silver platter.

But then. What if Stiles, a week from now, a month or a year from now, revoked that freedom? What if the human finds a better alpha, a better wolf and a pack to join himself with? He’d be uprooted yet again without a solid footing or a support system, left to wander aimlessly, anchorlessly around, ready to be cast aside.

‘’I’m. . .’’ he starts, hesitating. ‘’I’m considering your offer, but. . .’’

Stiles waits a beat before he prompts, ‘’But?’’

‘’But what if you change your mind?’’ Derek asks a little desperately. ‘’A year from now, two years from now. What if you find someone - ‘’

‘’I won’t,’’ Stiles says with confidence.

Derek glares at the human. ‘’You can’t know that. Nobody knows what the future holds, least of all to someone like me --’’

‘’Derek,’’ Stiles says slowly, his voice surprisingly hard, ‘’I will  _ not  _ change my mind. I will  _ not  _ find someone else, or whatever the hell you’re thinking right now. Do you think that I would’ve used up five years of my life to train myself to be your emissary, just to throw all of that hard work away?’’ He doesn’t let Derek reply, but continues, ‘’Training to be an emissary isn’t easy. You need to have a wolf in mind you’re dedicating yourself to, whom you trust so implicitly that you’re willing to bind your magic and alter it to match the wolf’s and his pack’s, and even then, even knowing exactly who you belong to, it still takes an enormous effort and hard work to be where I am today. Why do you think hunters murder emissaries alongside their packs?’’

‘’Because they feel the death of the pack as keenly as a wolf,’’ Derek answers quietly.

‘’Exactly,’’ Stiles says. ‘’Mostly, if an entire pack of tightly knit wolves die, and the hunters either aren’t willing to kill the emissary or then miss them completely, the broken pack bonds will drive the magic user into insanity, only able to stop after they’ve got their revenge. And in most likelihood, the emissary will end up killing themselves once their job has been done, since the very foundation of their magic, of their being has been cut from them.’’

‘’But. . . Deaton seemed. . .’’

Sighing, Stiles leans back in his chair. ‘’I don’t think Deaton was ever meant to be your mom’s emissary. Advisor, maybe. But druids mostly avoid conflict and bindings like that, to be able to keep the  balance or whatever. I think he was just a placeholder for someone else, someone better. It would make sense, you know, in the grand scheme of things.’’

Deflating, something inside Derek’s chest curls and withers away. ‘’So, when I went for him for help. . .’’

‘’He wasn’t really obligated to help, since he wasn’t bonded to you and Laura. Not in the ways it would’ve mattered. I think, when he offered advice to you in the beginning, it was for respect for your mother. And when he kept pulling the rug under you, betraying your trust time and time again, he kept doing it for Scott, because he’d known my brother for much longer than he’d known you.  _ Known you, _ known you. And he did it without remorse, because he didn't lose a family in the fire. He only lost an acquaintance, at most. He didn’t feel the  bonds break, didn’t have his world collapse around him. Not like you. ’’

Stiles stands, dragging his chair right next to Derek’s, pushing himself in the wolf’s space. ‘’Look. I’m so sorry for what happened to you in the past. For all the fucked up things you’ve had to endure, for all the ways me, and others around you whom you thought you could trust, have hurt you. But this?  _ This  _ I promise you.’’ He lowers his hand over his heart, willing Derek to realize how genuine he is being. ‘’I will stay unconditionally loyal to you, in good times and bad, and I swear to protect you in any way I can. You and me can form a pack of two, and if you never wish to add more members to our small unit, then I will respect that, and stand by your decision.’’ He pauses, scratching his head a little. ‘’That sounded a lot like a marriage proposal than I intended it to.’’

‘’Why?’’ Derek asks, unable to wrap his head around it. ‘’I mean. I don’t. I’m just so confused.’’

Stiles shrugs. ‘’I don’t know really why either. But I just feel it in my gut, within the shimmer of my magic, that the two of us? We could be something  _ good _ .’’ Taking the wolf’s hand, Stiles gazes him in his caleidoscope eyes and says, ‘’Would you like me to show you my devotion?’’

Derek looks at their joined hands and then nods. 

‘’Okay. Watch my arms, no wait -- Let me get my shirt off real quick.’’  Stiles extracts himself briefly to undress, revealing unblemished skin underneath the fabric and then plops back down onto the chair, re-joining their hands together.

Stiles takes a deep breath, releasing it, and suddenly his skin starts glowing. Derek watches in fascination as intricate diagrams and lines appear onto Stiles’ skin, his entire upper torso covered in tattoos. Derek can recognize the Nemeton easily, the vined tree blooming in greens, and then there are small charms and lines and wolves and -- And a triskelion. Right over Stiles’ heart rests his family’s crest, the familiar swirls reawakening a longing he had no idea could exist in his heart anymore.

When Stiles opens his eyes, the tattoos stay, the glow turning the ink into strokes of black and colors. ‘’Neat little trick, right?’’ He says, winking. ‘’I had to hide all the tats during my training, since we weren’t allowed to have any identifying marks on our bodies, but I think, in the long run, it’ll be easier to hide my status as a magic user if something bad was to ever happen and we had to go in hiding.’’

Derek reaches to trace the triskelion gently with his fingers. The human doesn’t flinch at the touch against his bare chest. ‘’You really mean it. You want this. A pack. With me.’’

‘’Yeah,’’ Stiles agrees. ‘’I told you I did. I mean, I don’t blame you for not believing at first, since, you know, trauma blah blah, trust issues etcetera. But. Yes. I want to form a pack with you, and get situated back into the town we belong to. Into the  _ home  _ we deserve to have.’’

Derek thinks back to the millions of text they’ve exchanged during the years, now second guessing every single ‘ _ Stay safe, love you’  _ Stiles had sent him. It dawns on him with effervescent clarity, pushing his heart into a gallop, feeling so  _ utterly foolish  _ for having missed it.

‘’You love me,’’ he says with wonder. 

‘’I  love you,’’ Stiles says comfortably, his gaze warm and affectionate. He’s apparently come to terms with this sudden revelation a lot earlier than Derek. ‘’I don’t trek a mountain through a life threatening blizzard for just anyone. Or tattoo their family crest into my chest, over my heart. Or train myself to learn difficult magic to protect them. It’s all for  _ you _ , Derek.’’ Then he lifts his hands up. ‘’But don’t push yourself into guilt for not realizing it earlier. You weren’t ready to hear it, and I wasn’t ready to allow myself to have those kinds of feelings towards you. It only matters that you know now, and that you can base your decision of maybe returning to Beacon Hills on solid facts, rather than half-empty promises.’’

‘’I -- ‘’

‘’What’s this talk about returning to Beacon Hills?’’ A voice says from the kitchen door. Both men startle and swivel their heads towards the dazed Scott standing there, rubbing at his eyes.

‘’Morning!’’ Stiles says a little too brightly, his scent letting Derek know that the human is extremely annoyed at the interruption, but rolling with it. ‘’Did you sleep well? Catch any bunnies in your dreams?’’

‘’Yeah, I slept really well, actually.’’ Scott nods, perking up when he sees the food on the stove. ‘’Oh man, is that breakfast?’’

‘’Oh, uh, yeah. Go ahead,’’ Derek says helplessly, gesturing towards the cabinet where the plates lay.

‘’Awesome,’’ Scott enthuses, grabbing utensils and forking up a sizeable portion on his plate. ‘’How long have you two been up?’’ The wolf asks, settling himself onto a free chair.

‘’Mm, half an hour, tops,’’ Stiles responds, refusing to leave Derek’s warm side, despite how odd it must look in Scott’s eyes for the two of them to suddenly be buddying up. He does put his long sleeved shirt back on though.

‘’I’m surprised to see you up, actually,’’ Scott says to Stiles. ‘’I remember you sleeping as long as you could on free days, taking twelve hour naps in broad daylight.’’

Stiles snorts. ‘’That’s the joyous past of a teenager. I mean, I think I could still easily sleep eighteen hours straight, but having my meds settled and a routine from school and work, I don’t usually let myself sleep longer than nine, or ten the latest.’’

‘’Huh. Well. We’re all growing up, I think,’’ Scott muses. ‘’I don’t usually sleep much at all, thanks to werewolf metabolism. It’s a real neat thing to have, since it makes evading danger a lot easier.’’ He stuffs his face with some eggs and gulps down a half a glass of water. Then he says, ‘’Hey, speaking of danger. I thought I heard you guys speaking about Beacon Hills?’’

Stiles shares a look with Derek before he responds, ‘’Yeah. I actually got a job there as a deputy under my dad. So I’ll be moving out of New York within the month.’’

‘’Congratulations, man!’’ Scott grins. ‘’That’s big, bro. You always wanted to follow in your dad’s footsteps.’’

‘’I did, I did. Did a detour through FBI programs, but settled for a deputy position after all. With all the supernatural stuff that goes around there, it’s better to have someone in the know in the force, apart from Parrish and dad. And I’ll probably have more active-heavy schedule in BH than I would as an FBI agent in Quantico.’’

Derek looks up at the mention of Parrish. ‘’Parrish is still working at the station under your dad?’’

‘’He is. I thought for sure he’d move along after the whole ghost riders thing, but nope. Dude’s still there and thriving.’’

‘’Admirable,’’ Derek concedes.

‘’Yeah, well, he’s not gonna be looking down on the bad guys alone much longer. With my neat little skills, I’ll be able to do a lot of things to help that I couldn’t do before, even during my FBI program,’’ Stiles says. ‘’And after I get to lay protective wards around the preserve to rekindle the connection between the nature and the Nemeton, hopefully the rest of the lingering corrupted magic will recede and end the supernatural trafficking throughout the preserve.’’

Scott looks a little contemplative at that. ‘’You need any help with that?’’

Shaking his head, Stiles gives his brother a thumbs-up, ‘’I’m very confident in my abilities. I’ll be fine. Thanks tho.’’

‘’Hmm,’’ Scott hums. ‘’Well, if you say so. I’ve been thinking of visiting though, so if you change your mind, let me know. ’’ He scrunches his nose up a little. ‘’Maybe I could even come back and settle down there, find a house and stuff. Reclaim the land, you know, call Deaton and maybe form a new pack on the territory. I did it well in the past, I think I could play the role of an Alpha again.’’

Before Derek can muster up any sort of panic over the idea of having to share the town with Scott and his pack after all, Stiles starts laughing. ‘’Oh my god, Scott. Do you hear yourself? You started your nomadic life  _ exactly  _ because you couldn’t handle being shackled down like that. You hated the idea of your wolf wanting to have a certain territory, and being unable to leave it. When Chris offered the idea of being on the road, you  _ literally  _ burned your car tires to get out of town. If you love your current life, why leave it?’’

‘’Mm. I do love my job. But, you know, my mom still lives there. Nobody has been protecting her from the dangers that the town keeps pushing onto the people there, and if you start messing with the Nemeton again. . . Who knows what will happen.’’

Stiles’ head rears back like he’s been slapped, his expression bewildered. Derek grimaces, immediately realizing what Scott is insinuating. But rather than feel hurt, Derek only scents mild amusement and a spark of anger, the human’s face turning unimpressed.

‘’Really, Scott? You  _ really  _ went there?’’

Scott, for his part, wilts a little, before he sticks his chin up in stubborn defense. ‘’I’m not saying you’d make it worse, but the Nemeton, it’s been peaceful for years now. Why mess with it?’’

Squinting at his brother, Stiles says flatly, ‘’I -- Do you know  _ why  _ it has stayed mostly quiet and inactive? Can you, like, trace a timeline backwards to when it went dormant again?’’

Frowning, Scott tries to think back. He can’t really pinpoint an exact time frame, because he wasn’t in Beacon Hills anymore at that point.

Derek’s eyes widen in realization. 

_ Holy shit _ .

Scott, the very first true alpha to emerge in a hundred years. A rare phenomenon that has only been recorded a couple times, and in those records, the True Alpha has been invincible, tackling foe after foe without a single defeat. When Scott presented, he became the beacon for supernatural beings to come have a try at him and his pack. To see if they could defeat the person who rose ranks from sheer stubbornness of will, and his refusal to color his hands in enemy blood. Derek is pretty sure that even if Deaton wasn’t exactly the catalyst of Scott’s transformation, he still definitely must’ve had a part in it somehow.

Getting frustrated, Scott says, ‘’It doesn’t really matter when it went dormant, just that it did, okay? And I don’t think messing with it would be wise. It would disrupt the balance around the stump, maybe luring in another demon or something.’’

Shaking his head, Stiles sighs, suddenly weary. ‘’Don’t worry Scott. My magic isn’t the bad thing here. In fact, my wards would probably strengthen the  _ good  _ inside the Nemeton. Because, despite what  _ you  _ think, the Nogitsune didn’t corrupt my spark. My spark was the light that could finally fight the demon out of me, the only thing that prevented my fragile human body into succumbing in the cold hands of death.’’

‘’Deaton said -- ‘’

‘’I honestly couldn’t give  _ two shits  _ about what Deaton said, dude. Dr. Deaton was only interested in driving his own agenda with this whole thing. He kept his advice  _ deliberately  _ vague and open to interpretation, so that should someone far higher up than him come asking questions, he could say he tried helping, but that he also kept himself in the sidelines without getting his hands dirty. You know, the funny thing about the Nogitsune, is that Deaton told us that we would be open to darkness, and that we would have to fight that darkness our entire lives. Well, guess what? He was wrong, and he knew it very well. A simple protection charm against possession would’ve gone a long way to keep the _ fucking fox  _ out of my  _ goddamn  _ mind.’’

Derek places a gentle hand on Stiles’ shoulder in an offer of comfort.

Scott opens his mouth to argue, but before he can utter a word, both him and Derek stiffen.

The familiar  _ crunch-crunch  _ of feet stepping on his snow covered pavement echo through the clearing. Derek winces, thinking what a horrible timing the Melrond pack seems to have in their visitations. First the sauna debacle and then the grizzly bear family and now this. He resigns himself for the inevitable confrontation. 

‘’What?’’ Stiles snaps, readying himself for a verbal fight with his brother. 

Derek fills him in. ‘’Someone’s coming up the driveway.’’

This throws Stiles off for a moment. ‘’You have a driveway? No, wait, you have an actual road that leads up to this damn cabin?’’

Amused, Derek nods. ‘’Since your car broke down, I think your magic guided you through the fastest shortcut, which was to push through the wilderness. There’s a long, sloping road climbing up the mountain, but it’s snowed in at the moment, and only accessible with a snowmobile.’’

Derek stands up, leaving both men disgruntled as he goes to open the door. Savannah, one of the Melrond pack’s betas stands there, her thick winter coat covering her muscular body, fur framing her face. ‘’Derek,’’ she greets him, her arms spread with an offer for a hug.

Derek gives her a quick, awkward pat on her shoulder before taking distance. ‘’Hi.’’ He takes another step back, gesturing her to come in. ‘’What are you doing here?’’

‘’My Alpha told me to come see how you fared the little storm last night. We all hated the idea that you had to stay here all by yourself, while the blizzard raged on. Almost shifted into our fur to race to get you, but Alpha prohibited it, reassuring that you’d find a way to us, should you need anything.’’ She looks over his shoulder with a pointed raised brow. ‘’But I see you’ve been in better hands than I could’ve imagined. Busy night, then?’’

Waiting until she takes her coat off so he can hang it, Derek shrugs. ‘’The cabin is made from tough wood. It stands in the storm better than some of the pack houses I’ve seen down the mountain. I was fine here.’’

‘’Mmh-hm! I bet you were,’’ she winks. ‘’Are introductions in order? I sense an Alpha in our midst, and as far as I know,  _ my  _ Alpha hasn’t permitted any other wolves onto our lands since we received your request.’’

Scott immediately jumps up, his hand extended. ‘’Alpha Scott McCall in your service, miss.’’

Her eyes widen as she grasps their palms together. ‘’Alpha McCall? You mean True Alpha McCall, the only brave wolf in decades to ally with a hunter to take down other hunters?’’ She spares a quick look over to Derek. ‘’And with an Argent at that.’’

A little sheepish, Scott nods. ‘’Yeah. I mean, I’m really nothing special. All the rumors you’ve heard are pretty much an exaggeration. I wouldn’t have done half the things I did without the help of Chris Argent. He’s the only true ally I really trusted throughout my years of being a wolf.’’

They migrate back to the living room, with Scott taking a seat on a lonely chair as Savannah sits on a couch close to the young wolf. Derek settles down with Stiles onto the two-seat sofa, bumping their sides together. He flushes warmly when, instead of shifting his weight away from him, Stiles pushes closer, sharing body heat.

‘’It’s fascinating, your story. We of course knew a little about Derek’s past, since the famous Hale fire is a hard thing to forget in our circles. But he’s been tight-lipped about his doings further than that, even with our curiosity just burning up. Is it really true that you took down an entire pack of Alphas without losing a single member of your pack?’’

Derek shares a look with Stiles.

‘’I mean, yeah. Kinda. The Argents really helped me with them though. But, no, we didn’t lose a single friend to them, which says a lot about how tight we were back then, how well we fought together. I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught your name, miss…?’’

Flashes of Erica’s dead body residing on Derek’s arms and the blood spilling from Boyd’s mouth after Derek’s claws dig into him spill into his mind, old grief burrowing into his heart. He knows Scott never considered Erica or Boyd as his friends, since they were Derek’s pack, but to hear him talk about their deaths so flippantly, like it didn’t matter to him at all that they got killed, settle heavily over him. The funeral Derek helped the families arrange still grate at his mind during lonely hours of the night, the ceremony engraved deeply into his heart where he’s still mourning the loss of his fierce betas.

Stiles shifts closer, as if sensing Derek’s mood.

‘’Oh, Savannah! Savannah Melrond. All of our pack members took the Melrond surname after becoming a member. You, of course, don’t have a pack at the moment, do you, Mr. McCall?’’

Scott shakes his head. ‘’With the way I’m working for a living, having a pack would make things harder. I live a nomadic life, chasing down rogue alphas who have turned people in their insanity, and then saving those turned people from hunters who tend to tail after crooked werewolves. All of my previous pack members have found alternative packs with the help of my Emissary, Alan Deaton. I see and talk to them every now and then, reminiscing about our past in Beacon Hills.’’

‘’Interesting. I cannot imagine a life without the support of my pack, the structure of a family. We even tend to worry about Derek staying alone in here, without any social contacts to human beings. Isolation and loneliness tend to drive an omega mad, needing the Alpha to anchor them into reality.’’ She cocks her head. ‘’Was Derek in your pack when you turned an Alpha?’’

Scott wrinkles his nose. ‘’God, no. I wouldn’t want Derek in my pack even if he was the last wolf on earth. He was really violent back then, trying to order me and my friends around and stuff. I don’t think he’s really made for pack life? I mean, he’s really antisocial and a pretty crappy beta. He doesn’t listen to orders or even try to work with others around him. Usually you would have to, like, Alpha order him to submission, and even that doesn’t always work because he’s pretty stubborn headed.’’

Stiles’ leg jerks at the words, his jaw twitching. Derek just looks down to his hands that rest on his lap, ashamed and guilty, the words slicing at his heart. He knew Scott wasn’t ever going to accept him, as a friend or an ally even, let alone be his  _ brother _ , but to know how poorly the other wolf really thought of him, despite all his efforts at trying to save Scott and teach him about his heritage, it makes his heart lurch painfully in his chest.

‘’Huh,’’ Savannah says. ‘’I mean, I know Derek is an oddity for a born wolf, to be able to withstand long periods of time without a pack to anchor him, but to think of him as unfit to his wolf instincts. . . Usually, with cases like these where an omega has stayed on our territory for over six months without approving of company, my Alpha would act accordingly and force a bond with the omega into our pack. Through his claws or arranging a mating with one of our betas. A lot of us think Derek as an eligible bachelor, so many of our darlings have set their sights on courting him.’’ She turns her head to give Derek a wink. ‘’But he likes to play hard to get and wants our betas to prove their affections to him, so we’ve been lenient and let Derek stay unmated a lot longer than we would usually. Though, I think I’m getting very close to breaking those walls he’s built around him. . .’’

‘’Okay, can we like, be done with this conversation?’’ Stiles suddenly pipes up, his tone rightfully appalled. ‘’This is in so many levels  _ creepy _ , and bad-touch wrong that I don’t even know where to start. First of all, Derek is not a  _ thing _ , okay? He’s a living, breathing,  _ thinking  _ human being. He can makes his own decisions about life, thank-you very much. Forcing a bond with someone who just doesn’t want to socialize or invest themselves into a pack they have no desire to stay in, is like,  _ illegal _ . It sounds very date rape-y and dubious in consent. And second of all; dude, Derek is  _ right here _ . You’re talking about him like he’s not even present, like he’s some goddamn child, incapable of speaking for himself.’’

Savannah looks very unimpressed. ‘’And who might you be?’’

Stiles stands up, offering his hand. ‘’Mieczyslaw Genim Stilinski, Emissary of the Hale pack.’’

She stares at his hand, brows furrowed in confusion. ‘’Hale pack emissary?’’ She asks. ‘’I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand. How can you be an emissary to a pack that doesn’t even exist?’’

‘’Oh,’’ Stiles says, his lips doing a little downturn in displeasure. He takes his hand back without her having touched it. ‘’Small little nifty details. I guess we have to do this without moonlight now, and then do the proper ceremony later. At least the moon is present, if not her strongest at the moment.’’ He turns around and faces Derek, baring his neck to the wolf. ‘’Derek Sebastian Hale, will you accept me, Mieczyslaw Genim Stilinski, as your pack mate and Emissary, and rekindle the Hale pack for the Mother Moon to recognize, and to bless us with her grace?’’

Derek stands up, his legs a little shaky. He slowly comes to cup the long column of the human’s bared neck, his thumb swiping over Stiles’ adam’s apple. ‘’I,’’ he starts, voice suddenly hoarse with emotions that clock his throat, ‘’I, Derek Sebastian Hale, accept you, Mieczyslaw Genim Stilinski as my pack, my Emissary, and share my blood and my moon with you, with the consent of both my wolf and my human self.’’

Stiles eyes flare bright purple at the end of the sentence, his tattoos shivering where they peek against his wrist from under his sleeve. Derek flashes his beta blue eyes back, keeping the electric ultramarine of his irises lit in response to Stiles’ magic as the connection opens up between them.

Derek expects the flow of magic to surge up into him, painfully and violently, like he’d seen happening a couple times when he was younger. He expects himself to howl in agony, for his wolf to force itself into surface, for his body to lose strength. He braces himself for the torment of his magic being sucked out of him, scrounging every little drop with sharp claws that tear at his insides, and for him to stay as a human for weeks on end.

But the pain doesn’t come.

Instead, a soothing, warm feeling starts from the tip of his toes, traveling up to his stomach, to his chest, to his temples, flowing through his veins. A whisper of hands cupping his face, arms embracing his upper body, gentle fingers caressing the stretch of his skin. He feels love and affection, his heart filling up with joy as his wolf sparks up with happiness at the touch of a pack member. The bond that he’s felt snap eighteen times in his lifetime, tingles and Derek can almost  _ see  _ the strings start knitting together, weaving a full, solid thread that ties his and Stiles’ hearts together. It sings of _ ‘packpackpackpack’  _ and that,  _ that  _ is what almost sends him to his knees in gratitude.

Stiles’ palms are supporting Derek’s elbows though, stopping him from falling. The human seems to have an equally dazed expression, with a little bit more clarity than Derek.

‘’Whoah,’’ Stiles says, and then brings Derek into the big, tight Stilinski hug he’s been craving since they first got into the cabin.

‘’Oh.’’ Is what Savannah says flatly. Derek looks over to her where she’s standing next to a shell-shocked Scott, and she looks disappointed and pissed.

‘’Well, if I’d known there was an emissary vying for your attention, none of us would’ve bothered. We could’ve had great cubs together you know.  _ Powerful  _ full shift pups that would’ve dominated  _ everything  _ around them, a litter of strong children that would’ve made our Alpha proud. But now that you’ve apparently decided to join into a pack outside ours, I’m going to have to accept that, and ask you to leave our territory within the next forty-eight hours. Alpha Melrond will be in contact for proper settlement of letting you use our land and for leading us astray with your false claims of not wanting to settle down into a pack structure.’’ She pushes past them to the door. ‘’We’ll also have to bill you for our visits and the gifts we’ve sent you. Should we need assistance in the future, you will owe the Melrond pack a favor which we can cash out at any time. Our Alpha and Emissary will be in touch.’’

With that, she takes her leave, leaving the three men behind.

Stiles extracts himself from Derek though he doesn’t go far, his hands still in contact with Derek’s arms, sending a glare after Savannah. ‘’What a piece of shit,’’ he snarls. ‘’Bill you for gifts  _ they’ve  _ sent when you’ve made it clear you weren’t interested in any of their shenanigans? Jesus, that’s so fucked up. You would not have deserved to be forced into joining them. What a group of limp, diseased cockheads.’’

Derek huffs in amusement. He feels so much lighter now, like a physical weight has been lifted off of his chest. He steps reluctantly out of Stiles’ space, taking a deep breath. It seems that his immediate future will consist of packing up his things and traipsing down the very path Stiles had trekked up, following the human to his car and driving  _ home _ .

To Beacon Hills.

‘’Stiles,’’ Scott says tightly, ‘’Can I talk to you for a minute?’’ The wolf sends a sharp look to Derek. ‘’In  _ private _ .’’

Derek gestures to the door. ‘’Take your discussion outside if you want me to stay out of it.’’

Both men cram their feet into their boots, grabbing their jackets. Scott stomps outside like a kid having a temper tantrum, with a reluctant Stiles following him. He casts one last look in Derek’s direction, but the wolf’s face has gone blank again. As he excuses the both of them briefly, he vows to try his hardest to never have Derek wear that expression ever again.

The snow crunches under Stiles’ boots, the crisp, freezing mountain air fresh in his lungs, and he inhales it deeply. It soothes him, the quiet forest around them, the freedom of living out in the wilderness, out of the reach of civilisation and cars and buildings and traffic and chaos and _noise_. If he was able to go on with life without a wifi or fast food delivery or electricity or a _inside_ _bathroom_ , he’d definitely move into a cabin in the woods.

Once they’re far enough from the cabin but still close enough to see the building, Scott whirls around furiously. ‘’What the hell are you doing?’’ he demands.

Stiles spreads his arms in disbelief. ‘’What am _ I  _ doing? I’m doing  _ exactly  _ what I came here to do in the first place. Which is to get Derek back to Beacon Hills with me. What the hell are  _ you  _ doing?’’

_ ‘’That _ ! _ ’’ _ Scott cries out, pointing a finger towards Stiles’ chest. ‘’That is what I mean! Why the hell would you ask  _ Derek  _ out of all the people you know, to start a pack with you in Beacon Hills?’’

‘’Why wouldn’t I?’’ Stiles asks in frustration. ‘’I mean, have you met the dude?’’

‘’Yes! Yes I have! We went through  _ shit  _ in high school because of him! You know? Remember his crazy uncle biting me and turning me into  _ this _ ?’’ The wolf emphasises his torso. ‘’Or the millions of threats he made to us? When he pushed us against things and ruined every single plan we had by just turning up? Or how about the fact that everything evil that came to Beacon Hills started with Derek returning for his sister?’’ Scott’s voice turns into a furious whisper, ‘’Fuck, man, Derek’s  _ killed  _ people. Not only did he kill his own uncle, but he also killed hunters, like Allison’s mom and her aunt, Kate, and Erica and Boyd and -- ‘’

Stiles blinks, his hands shooting up in a placating gesture.  _ ‘’Whoah _ , slow down, Scott. Sheesh. Derek did  _ not  _ kill either Victoria, nor Erica or Boyd. Derek accidentally  _ turned  _ Victoria when he tried saving  _ you  _ from her, because she was literally trying and almost succeeding in killing you. He turned her, and it was _ her choice  _ to either live as a werewolf, or take her own life, which she chose the latter. She selfishly left her family behind instead of just adjusting into turning furry once a month. That’s not Derek’s fault in any capacity. And second of all,  _ the alpha pack _ killed both Boyd and Erica. Like.  _ Literally _ . They only used Derek’s body as a tool to do it, but that, too, wasn’t his fault. Everything was shit back then, and confusing and really fucking  _ scary _ , but you can’t blame Derek for the fact that the alpha pack came into town, or that they kidnapped, tortured and killed his pack members, and that they used him. Derek was just as afraid and ignorant to their plans as we were. He just didn’t have anyone to confine to, or turn to, when he needed help, unlike we did. And Kate fucking deserved every inch of the slow, tortured death she received.’’

‘’But -- ‘’

‘’We all made mistakes in the past,’’ Stiles says with determination. ‘’None of us were perfect. We lied to each other, omitted truths,  acted selfish. We were young and stupid and so foolish, and we reaped the heavy consequences of every single wrong choice we made. We lost our friends, our pack members, we lost faith and trust between our family members, got roughed up, serviced funerals and lived through it all. All of what happened in high school was a clusterfuck of shitly distributed cards, a real fucking rollercoaster of betrayal and fights. But do you know what stayed constant, despite the world almost crashing around us?’’

Scott shakes his head in negative.

‘’Derek’s unrelenting, stable loyalty. We put him through the mangle, you know?’’ Stiles lists off with his fingers. ‘’Blamed him for the murder of his sister he’d just buried. Blamed him for another murder when he’d just fallen off a building, when we thought he’d died and decided to dump the blame on him, without even going down to check if he was alive after all, if only injured. I said shit about him to his face, blamed him for being magically whammied by a darach, pushed him when he was already broken. Chris broke the windshield of Derek’s camaro, the one  _ Laura  _ gave him, just as a scare tactic, without him having even done anything at that point. We drove him away, again and again, when he tried asking for help, or when he tried  _ offering  _ help. He wasn’t polite about any of it, because he was just as damaged and broken as we were, if not  _ more _ .  But he still kept helping us, saving us in the last minute. He kept being kind and compassionate and  _ patient  _ with us, even when we could give fuck-all about  _ his  _ feelings. He had the premise, the  _ right _ , to become the most vengeful, most despicable person on earth, to kill any and all people related to the name Argent, to go feral in his fury to revenge his dead family, and the new pack he’d tried forming, but whom were killed or taken away before he could truly get to know to them, to learn to love them. But he didn’t. He turned that anger, that loneliness and sorrow into kindness, into helping others so that they wouldn’t end up just as alone as he did. And that loyalty, that fierce protectiveness and patience over the things Derek loves and values,  _ that  _ is what I’m looking for in a pack member. A  _ family  _ member. ’’

He sighs, deflating. ‘’And that’s the difference between me and you,’’ he says to Scott. ‘’I want to keep my family and friends safe, to protect the people I hold dear, regardless of whom else gets hurt in the way of that. You, on the other hand, want to save everyone around you, people you don’t know, people you’ve never even met, giving everyone a second chance to repent their sins, even if they would deserve to die. You do it regardless of whether or not it would hurt or even kill the wolves in your own pack, because the lives of the innocents are far more important to you than the lives of your family. Where you let people like Jennifer and Deucalion and Ethan have a second chance, all of those chances, by the way, something that came back to bite us in the ass, me and Derek would’ve killed them the second we got wind about the rows of bodies they’d left behind before they stumbled into Beacon Hills and started messing with our packs. We --’’

‘’But if that’s the case,’’ Scott interrupts lowly,  _ angry _ , ‘’Then maybe I should’ve killed you too, when the Nogitsune possessed you, since it was  _ you  _ who the demon chose as its vessel.  _ Your  _ hands got soaked in blood, in  _ Allison’s  _ blood, and because of that, we had a mass funeral for all the fucking people you murdered, Stiles. Should I have killed you then, huh? Should I not have given you a chance to repent your sins when the demon left your body?’’

Stiles doesn’t even register that he’s moved before he hears the clear and loud slap of his palm hitting Scott’s cheek. Fury and shame and grief wells in his heart, but he pushes all of it down, not willing to let his emotions run rampage. He has time for that later. Scott looks a little dumbfounded, his head turned away by the force of the slap.

His palm starts tingling with the blood returning to it, and he withdraws his hand. ‘’You know that was different,’’ Stiles grits out. ‘’But that isn’t what this is about, isn’t it? You forget, Scotty-boy, that we were friends for a long time before we went our separate ways. This is about you lashing out when things aren’t going your way. When you feel attacked, you start saying things you know will hurt the other, digging the dagger deep into the nasty things that you know happened in the past, and using them to your advantage in future fights. You seem so happy and goofy, that to an outsider, it seems that you didn’t grow up in an abusive childhood home. But I know the tactics when I see them, because I saw the exact same ones on your father’s lips when he kept punishing Melissa for the stupidest things. It gets engraved into you deeply, inherently, when you grow up in a house like that. But somehow, in this whole, pure, True Alpha shtick you suddenly got shouldered with, you’ve forgotten that you aren’t made of only good things, Scott McCall.’’

Stiles takes a step back when Scott brings his hand to his own cheek. He continues, wanting Scott to have this wake up call right in this moment, for his brother to finally come to terms with the fact that he doesn’t have to be perfect, or entirely innocent to be good, but he has to own up to his mistakes and stop blaming everyone else for them. ‘’You aren’t the innocent little shining star you’ve internalized yourself to be. You keep priding yourself for not soaking your hands in blood, even when you’re under attack, not realizing that even if you stop your claws from emerging and ripping into the rotten throats of pedohpilic hunters who take joy in murdering children, either the hunters will continue onto another target, doing their disgusting deeds after you’ve left with that one kid you managed to save, or then either Chris or another wolf will do the killing blow. Like letting a priest who has a thing for altar boys to continue working in a church after church, while knowing exactly what he’s doing while he’s having private services and lessons with those young children. That’s not you doing the right thing. That’s you manipulating everyone around you to do the dirty work for you, so that you can take the glory and praise for it without lifting a finger.’’

This time Stiles doesn’t have to move. Scott jumps on him fast, with snarling fury, both of them tumbling down onto the thick snow blanketing the land. His magic protects him from Scott’s claws, not letting them pierce his skin, but the wolf can still grab him, violently grasping at his arms and shaking him, hitting his body against the ground.

‘’Shut the fuck up,’’ Scott spits. ‘’Who the fuck are you to suddenly play the moral compass shit? You’re the one who kept lying to his dad about everything, you’re the one who took me to those fucking woods and got me into this position I don’t want to be in. You’re the one who killed Donovan, an  _ innocent  _ man, and you can’t even play the Nogitsune card on that, because you were fully conscious and in control of your own mind, which makes you a  _ murderer _ .’’

‘’That was fucking self defense, you fuckwit,’’ Stiles seethes. ‘’You know that, I know that, my  _ dad  _ knows that, the  _ law  _ knows that! You think I would have gotten access to the FBI training program if they didn’t think it justified?’’ He punches Scott in the face, getting him off of his body, trying to gain distance as he crawls backwards away from the wolf. He laughs, a little hysterical, unbelieving the situation. ‘’And by the way, that’s the most hypocritical thing you could’ve come up with. I mean,  _ really _ ? You patted Deucalion on the head for killing hundreds of people in order to become a stronger alpha, and took Ethan into your pack, even knowing he’d just tortured and possibly murdered Erica, and definitely tortured and almost succeeded in killing Derek? And then you hold that one time self defense kill over my head because you thought I was just as  _ pure  _ and  _ good  _ as you, and not wanting to die by the hands of a psychopath?’’

Scott rises to his knees and punches the snow in anger, his face contorted in the shift, growling, ‘’The Alpha pack made Ethan and Aiden do those things to others. It wasn’t their first choice. And Ethan was left with nobody, what was I supposed to do, cast him away? Make him omega?’’

‘’Uh, yes?’’ Stiles says incredulously. ‘’You cast away Derek just for having a different opinion than you! And then Deaton somehow manipulated you in becoming the Alpha of the Hale territory while sending away the only living Hale around, making him drift away from everything he once had. Ethan’s list of offenses is a lot fucking longer and horrible than Derek’s is.” He heaves a breath, panting with the storm of emotions rolling over him. “What is this all about, really? Why are you so adamant on not giving Derek any sympathy at all, but every other murderer, psychopath and abuser is fine in your books, as  long as they don’t have the last name Hale?’’ 

‘’I don’t know!’’ Scott shouts. ‘’Why are you giving  _ him  _ the benefit of the doubt when you didn’t give Theo any ounce of sympathy or friendship?’’

‘’Oh my god,’’ Stiles groans. How can someone be so  _ thick _ ? ‘’Because Theo was a manipulative piece of shit who wanted me to become the Nogitsune again just so he could  _ use  _ me. All Derek has done is save my life, again and again, with threats that never even registered as ones, because I knew for a certain fact that Derek would never hurt me.  _ Period _ . End of discussion.’’

Scott’s mouth twists in a sneer, something Stiles is very unused to seeing. ‘’So, what? You then decided that Derek was the best option out of all of your former friends to start a pack with, without even consulting them first, asking whether or not they’d want to join? You’d take away their right to go back and live in their hometown just so you and Derek could frolic around and play alpha and beta in a makeshift pack that doesn’t even exist?’’

‘’Oh, fuck you,’’ Stiles spits, standing up, dusting snow off his clothes. ‘’I don’t have to even listen to this shit anymore. I’m done. I’m so fucking done.’’ He stomps  back to the cabin, ignoring Scott’s protests against it, and forces himself inside. Derek has managed to pack a duffel bag in the meantime, the wolf gathering small things around the house into another bag. 

‘’We’re done,’’ he says to the older wolf. ‘’We’re going to pack your things as fast as we can, and then we’re gonna hike back down this stupid mountain and find my car, and then leave  _ that  _ ‘’ he points behind him where Scott is clambering up the porch, ‘’jackass in the first town we see, because I’m not putting up with him anymore than this. If I have to listen to one more word out of his fucking mouth, I’ll flip my shit and kick his ass five ways to sunday. Capiche?’’

Derek stares at him quietly for a few seconds before he asks, ‘’What happened?’’

‘’Scott God-complex McCall happened,’’ Stiles snarls.  

Scott growls, agitated, from the doorway. ‘’How the hell do I have a god-complex if  _ you’re  _ the one parading around proudly proclaiming your enthusiasm of killing people that you don’t think of worthy of protecting, while I’m the one who’s never killed a single person, and I’m saving people from hunters almost every day as a  _ living _ .’’ The wolf steps inside, glaring at them both. ‘’You’re becoming a deputy, you’re  _ supposed  _ to protect the innocent civilians. It’s gonna be your duty as an officer of the law. What would your dad think if he ever heard of the conversation we just had?’’

‘’My  _ dad _ ,’’ Stiles grits, ‘’Told me he would burn down the entire police station with evidence and all, if it meant that he could protect me. He would do everything in his power to keep me safe and happy. And Melissa told me that she would do the exact same thing to me, and my dad, and you. It seems, Scotty, that you’re the only one out of the bunch who thinks that law must be abided by all costs, even if that cost is losing the life of your loved ones.’’

Scott buries his face in his hands and half suppresses a scream in his throat. “You’re only making up shit like this because you’re angry I don’t conform to your moral ambiguity. You want me to treat you the same way I did when we were in high school and none of this had happened. But news flash, Stiles, I can’t do that. Not when I know for certain that the you back then would never have agreed to be in Derek’s pack, and that the time you’ve spent texting him seems to have corrupted the last of the lawful good in you. How can I trust a person who is ready to kill innocents just for your own gain? That’s not fair and it’s not how a  _ protector _ of a territory should act.”

The punch, Stiles thinks, is what Scott is expecting. But what he isn’t expecting, and what comes as a surprise, is that Stiles’ right hook is painful even to a werewolf, and all of them can hear the crack of Scott’s jaw breaking. Not slowing down, Stiles kicks his brother right between his groin, making him double over in pain.

‘’You know what? You can find your own way down this damn mountain. I’m not gonna force myself to even  _ look _ at your face longer than this. Go live your life, Scott, in that strict black and white reality you’ve somehow convinced yourself is the only way to live. I thought for sure living with Chris would have broadened your worldview, but I guess I held a little bit too much hope over it.’’ He snatches the duffel bag Derek has laid on the couch, hefting it on his shoulder and taking his own bag that Derek had put into one corner of the living room last night. ‘’Say hi to Chris from me. Go out there and play the faux hero, while everyone else does the dirty work for you. If you ever find yourself near Beacon Hills and need help, don’t bother calling me. I won’t answer, and I  _ definitely  _ won’t help.’’

Derek quietly makes sure all the windows are locked, as well as the doors, and that all fires have been put out. If he forgot anything, it’s probably something he doesn’t even need. The Melrond pack seems unlikely to send anything to him when they come back and clean the place up, and if Scott decides to find his way over to the conservative pack’s house, his tales will do Derek no favors at all. He’s way too intimately familiar with the younger wolf’s skewered way of viewing the story only from his side that he twists out of context to suit his needs. And since Savannah seemed to practically worship the ground below the true alpha’s feet, the Merlond alpha will probably end up siding with Scott over Derek. With these thoughts, he grabs his winter gear and puts it on, in addition to his hiking boots, and then follows Stiles out, both of them stepping over Scott’s hunched form.

Derek feels a little guilty about it, wanting to make the tension between the two friends okay again, but he didn’t hear the whole conversation, and has no idea just what Scott had said to make Stiles smell like thunderstorm ready to rage, so he bites his tongue and stays silent. He hates the thought that he might be the catalyst of the breakup between the brothers, and it makes his heart sink in the pit of his stomach.

Before Stiles can slam the door of the cabin closed behind him, he turns to face Scott one more time. The wolf has managed to right himself onto his elbows, glaring up at the human. Stiles opens his mouth, as if to say some final last words, a goodbye or a  _ see you someday _ , but the words never come out. Instead, the human shakes his head in disappointment and sorrow, and just pushes away from the porch without a single backward glance.

The both of them walk quietly to the garage, the door opening with a groan as the ice splinters away from the hinges. The snowmobile is brand new and shiny, made for two to sit on it, as well as having space for bags, and it purrs to life surprisingly easily. Derek mounts the front of it, and Stiles sits behind him, wrapping his arms around his stomach.

‘’You ready?’’ Derek asks, and Stiles nods, inching closer so that they’re flush against each other.

‘’Ready,’’ he confirms, squeezing the man’s torso tightly. 

Derek starts down the driveway, chancing a final glance in Scott’s direction where they’d left him in the cabin, but the door is now closed and the wolf gone. Briefly, he wonders if he’ll ever see Scott again.

He’s certain that their paths will cross again. Derek’s thirty-one now, and his wolf has been restless for years without a proper land to mark as his own, without a pack to ground him. The promise of starting a life with Stiles as a small pack unit, in his old territory, has his instincts settling down as they drive down the snow covered slope. In ten years, Scott will be thirty-five, and probably driven by the same instincts to find a pack and land to make a home to. 

Though he won’t be able to do that in Beacon Hills, no matter how much the land would lure him in then. Derek will make sure of that. Because he will protect those he loves, and he’s certain that over the years, the kindling, small sapling of love he feels for Stiles now, will bloom into something big and powerful, and no force on earth will be able to hurt his mate when it’s Derek who he has by his side.

And if that means keeping Scott out of the territory, then that’s what he’ll do. And he’ll be entirely unapologetic about it, if it means it will keep Stiles happy and content.

He lets go of the bar of the mobile with one hand and places it over Stiles’, squeezing it lightly. The human hugs the wolf closer in response, their bond vibrating with brightness and warmth, and for the first time in his life, Derek is one hundred percent certain that he’s made the right choice.

And with Stiles, he’ll keep making more right choices, and then, perhaps _ even he _ will be granted the happy ending he never believed he would get. 

But first he has to get them both safely back to their promised territory, and in that task, he throws himself wholeheartedly, ready to shoulder the world to get where he wants to be. And with Stiles warm and reassuring against his back, every obstacle in their way just turned that much easier to deal with.

  
  
  
  
  


END.

**Author's Note:**

> ps. carry you home is not abandoned, do not fear. I'm just struggling with the fight scene, since I'm bad at writing them, and it's taking me awhile to get through it. Thank you so much for everyone for being so patient with me, you are beautiful and I love you all!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [re-connect](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18229199) by [Faladrast (surfgirl1)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/surfgirl1/pseuds/Faladrast)




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